Midnight Visitor
by XDracoMalfoysGirlX
Summary: "You know what they say about ghosts, they need to be laid to rest." Hermione discovers just why Sirius Black keeps returning to Grimmauld Place to see her at the stroke of midnight each night and why being an adult is never easy.


A/N: Written for:

XXKissingSinxX- 100 prompts challenge

InloveWith Laughing- one shot a day challenge

And for AYMASgonalves

Midnight Visitor

The night was dark and heavy; oppressive. It seemed to weigh down on her, touching her. The clock in the hallway began to chime, counting down the strokes until midnight. Hermione held her breath, her eyes straining in the dark, watching, waiting. He would come, he did every night.

At first she had thought it was her imagination, she hadn't thought that Grimmauld Place was haunted. She had thought she had been in that place between sleep and awake where it was difficult to tell if you were still dreaming or not. Then she had thought that perhaps she had been dreaming all along and that her dreams were so vivid that she still remembered them when she awoke.

But it had continued to happen, each night, every night, until it happened so many nights that it could now be considered routine.

Five strokes counted down to midnight, Hermione sat up in bed and reached for her dressing gown. She pulled it on and tied it in a neat knot over her hip. Putting on her slippers to ensure she didn't catch a chill, Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and waited patiently, silently counting down with the chimes of the clock.

The clock struck midnight, the final stroke ringing out sharp and clear. There was a beat of silence following that last echo and for a moment Hermione thought that he wasn't going to come tonight; but then the air around her seemed to vibrate, grow colder. She closed her eyes and shivered, and when she reopened them he was there, having materialised out of thin air from wherever he spent his time when he wasn't with her.

She smiled warmly. "Hello, Sirius."

"Hello, Hermione," he smiled back, standing there before her as ruggedly dapper as he had ever been.

Only he could pull of that look, Hermione thought, only he could make a nice outfit look so attractively messy. His hair was still curling around his face to his shoulders and his eyes still had that wicked twinkle she remembered. In fact, his eyes were the first thing she thought of when she thought of Sirius.

"Right on time," Hermione said.

"It's the bewitching hour," he said, wandering aimlessly about the room, letting his hands trail through the books stacked neatly on the table. "I haven't got the hang of this ghost thing yet, I can't touch anything," he said ruefully. "Can't haunt anything unless I can rattle some chins."

Hermione tilted her head and watched his hand drift through the back of the chair. Back and forth, back and forth. The chair never moved. It must be awful, she thought, not to affect anything around you, to not really be part of the world; to just be there.

"Why can't you touch anything, do you know?"

"Hum," he glanced up from reading the title on the top most book. "Because I'm not supposed to be here. I've had my time, I did what I had to do and it was time for me to leave. I'm not a ghost like Gryffindor's own Nick. He wanted to stay behind, he was frightened of death. But not me, I've never been afraid of anything."

Hermione's lips pursed in thought. "Then why are you here, Sirius? I tried to talk to Harry about you, about you being back, but he wouldn't listen. I think he was afraid," she said quietly.

"Harry's not afraid of anything either," Sirius interrupted.

"Yes he is," Hermione said quietly. "He's not afraid of dying. He's not afraid to face The Dark Lord, but he is afraid of losing more people he loves and cares about, and I think he's afraid to see you in case he can't see you, or in case he won't want to let you go. It could be as much of the one as the other."

Sirius chuckled. "You've certainly considered this from all angles, Hermione."

She flushed and nodded. "It's what I do. I'm the one who thinks things through."

"And what other conclusions did you come to?" he wondered, a curious look crossing his face.

"Honestly?" Hermione shook her head. "None. I don't understand why you're here, Sirius. I don't know why I'm the only one who can see you."

Sirius smiled lightly. "Don't you?"

Hermione had the feeling he was teasing her but she couldn't work out why. "No, I don't," she admitted.

"Can you cast a patronus?"

"Yes," she smiled proudly. "Harry taught us how when we formed Dumbledore's Army."

Sirius chose to ignore the fact that Dumbledore's Army had been formed the same year he had died. Hermione realised it, he could tell by the sudden downwards turn of her mouth and the way her eyes tightened with supressed pain and distress. "Have you cast one lately?"

"No," she shook her head once. "I've had no need for a patronus lately."

"Cast one tomorrow," he advised, doing another circular of the room. "See what happens."

"I'll do it now." Hermione took up her wand from the night stand and prepared to concentrate to summon up the happy thoughts and feelings and memories she would need to produce her patronus. She was surprised to find that all she had to do was whisper the spell and a white mist began to seep from her wand. There was no need for her to summon up her memories the patronus was taking shape already.

She stared at the animal in front of her stupidly. "That's not an otter." Hermione blushed at having stated the obvious.

"No," Sirius agreed drifting around the still white form and examining it with interest. "Is that what your patronus was, an otter?"

"Yes. An otter is a feminine power animal." Automatically Hermione expressed her knowledge on the subject, she had of course looked up the meaning of an otter as soon as she had produced it and had been very pleased with its meaning. "It's a symbol of grace and curiosity and laughter."

"If your patronus has changed then the reason for my being here goes deeper than I thought."

She waited patiently for him to continue her eyes fixed on the quiet image in front of her. She had read up on patronus' of course and knew that it was possible for them to change due to extremely intense emotions or changes in a person's life. "Sirius?" she prodded when he remained silent.

He didn't say anything, he just continued to look at her, waiting for her to tell him what she must know for herself but hadn't yet realised it. Hermione considered her new patronus, the large white dog looked back her and Hermione had a nagging feeling that she had seen this dog before.

Sirius' animagi form was a dog, her patronus was now a dog and the only person who could see Sirius now was her. Hermione's brow furrowed, it was not a coincidence and she knew it, she hardly believed in coincidences anymore.

It took her a few minutes of careful deliberation but Sirius knew when Hermione had finally stumbled upon the answer because her face turned bright pink, her eyes lowered to the floor and the patronus wavered.

"You see," he said quietly. "It's so strong that you don't have to concentrate to keep the patronus formed, all you need is for me to be near you."

"I didn't know," she whispered mortified. "I mean, I didn't realise."

He spoke quietly, it was a sort of sombre moment. "I'm in another world, gone beyond the veil, and yet you call me back. Night after night when you're alone in your bed, in the dark, when you can't sleep; you call to me, you bring me here."

"I don't mean to," she said wringing her hands, her eyes wide and distraught. "I didn't know I was doing it."

"I know that," Sirius soothed, automatically reaching out to touch her, but drawing back at the last minute remembering he couldn't.

Hermione buried her face in her hands, her humiliation complete. It had been there all this time and she hadn't realised, probably because she had lived with it for so long her subconscious accepted the feeling for what it was, but her conscious mind had never brought those feelings out into broad day light to be dealt with. And now those feelings were crying out at night, crying out across the worlds to him. She hadn't meant to drag Sirius through the veil between the worlds, between her world and his; but she had.

"I'm sorry, Sirius." Hermione looked at him with pink cheeks and wide horrified eyes. "I didn't mean to drag you here, to put you through the misery of being back in the home you hated, in a world that's no longer yours."

Sirius waved a hand to dismiss her apology. "Oh I know that, Hermione. I'm not blaming you. You've had a lot going on over the last few years to have any spare time to think about me."

"Does it hurt?" she asked cautiously. "When I call you here?"

"No," he assured her and smiled kindly. "It's nice to come back. I watch you, you know, all of you. You're doing fine and you'll succeed, I know you will."

"Dumbldore and Harry's parents, are they with you?"

"Oh sure, I see them all the time, especially James."

"Cedric Diggory?" she asked tentatively.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah he's about, he's alright. We're all alright, Hermione, we're in another world where there's no darkness, no pain. It's nice."

"And I keep dragging you out of it," she sighed softly.

He grinned wickedly at her. "That's kinda nice too."

She blushed profusely. "I don't know what to say," Hermione admitted.

"You have to face it, accept it, say it and let me go," Sirius informed her.

Hermione gave an involuntary cry of protest. "No! I've only just realised that I love you, I'm not ready to give you up again so soon."

He rolled his shoulders and floated nearer to her. "You don't really have much of a choice. I'm dead, you're not."

"But," Hermione protested. "It's like I've just found you only to lose you straight away. It's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair," Sirius said, his silvery form darkening when he thought about all the years he had been locked away in Azkaban for something he didn't even do. "You've faced it, you've accepted it and you've said it…."

"No!" she said vehemently.

"It's time to let go, Hermione," Sirius said gently. "It's time for you to get on with your own life and leave me where I am."

"How am I meant to do that?" she demanded, her hands coming to rest on her hips as she glared at him crossly. "You said yourself my love for you is strong, so strong that it calls you here because I can't deal with it."

"You couldn't deal with it," Sirius corrected, "Because you didn't know it was there. Now you know, now you'll deal with it and move on."

"I don't want to," she replied stubbornly.

"Well tough cheese," he snapped irritably. "You're just going to have to. We all get dealt bad hands but we have to make the best of them, it's what being an adult is all about. Or so I'm told," he added with a little grin.

"I don't want you to go." Tears stung her eyes and she reached out to him, her hand sliding straight through his arm. "I want you here, where I can talk to you, and see you, and love you now that I know I do."

"It's not possible, Hermione. I'm a ghost, and you know what they say about ghosts." He chuckled darkly when she didn't answer but merely continued to stare at him. "They need to be laid to rest."

"But…. Don't you care?" she asked tearfully. "Don't you love me too?"

Sirius tactfully swerved the question. She was still such a child about so many things in spite of all she had been through over the years, even if he was alive he would be having the same conversation with her. He was not the one for Hermione, but by the stubborn angle of her chin he knew she wouldn't accept that just yet. "It makes no difference what either of us feels. I'm still dead and you are very much alive."

Her tears were falling freely now and Hermione felt certain it would be like this if someone literally stabbed her in the heart. Her hand clutched to her chest and she struggled to breathe.

"There's no need for you to see me go a second time." Sirius didn't have much time left, he could feel it, feel himself being pulled back to the world beyond the veil. "Close your eyes, Hermione."

Hermione squeezed her eyes tightly shut. He was right, she didn't need to see him go again. "You don't have to leave." Her voice was a choked, desperate whisper, one last ditch attempt to hold on to what exceed her grasp.

There was a strange cold sensation against her cheek as Sirius kissed her. At least, Hermione liked to think that he had kissed her.

"Yes, I do."

His voice was a whisper against her ear and Hermione kept her eyes shut, heart breaking tears leaking from beneath the closed lids. She knew when she finally had the strength to open them again she would be alone; Sirius would be lost to her forever.


End file.
